Still Betting On Us, Boys?
by and so they said always
Summary: Ryan hands him the twenty. "Huh," he mutters, "I didn't think she'd take him back." But that wasn't the first time the partners had bet on Castle & Beckett, and it wouldn't be the last. A collection of wagers that Esposito and Ryan make on the little and big Caskett things. Of course, no matter what, they're betting that those two make it, always. (And they do). Cute Caskett.
1. Chapter 1 - The Beginning of Bets

**Hi guys,**

**So here's the first chapter of my new story: it's about the cuteness of Caskett and the many things they did and didn't do, as seen and anticipated by Esposito and Ryan.  
The chapters are probably going to each be only 500 words or so (maybe more, depending on the bet), but hopefully you enjoy them. I'm probably not even going to try to keep them chronological, I'll just write whatever pops into my head.**

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**Still Betting On Us, Boys? ****– ****chapter 1  
****a caskett fanfiction**

_Around 1x02_

Esposito sips at his truly atrocious coffee from the break room, grimacing at the flavour.  
"Hey," Ryan mutters, observing his expression with amusement, "just be glad it's hot."  
His partner shrugs. "That this acid is above luke-warm not exactly going on my Thanksgiving list," he mutters. "Though, speaking of things I _am _grateful for… Watching Beckett deal with New Boy should be fun." Javier nods at the newest part-time resident at the 12th, who is sitting next to the Detective who would be considered the Precinct's _most_ full-time resident (he knows for a fact that she sleeps in the break room a couple of times on a month, particularly when they don't have a break on tough cases). Beckett is not even trying not to roll her eyes at whatever highly animated tale Castle is enthusiastically relating to her. The she gives up on the eye-rolling and just flat-out glares at her companion, hoping he gets the message. He doesn't. Well, if he does, he's ignoring it.  
"Ooh," Ryan says gleefully. "Remember last time we got _that_ look? We ran away. He's just… sitting there." He sounds almost awed.  
Esposito grins vaguely at the time Ryan is referring to – it'd been nearly midnight, and when Beckett had telecast that death stare their way, they'd scuttled off to the safety of a nearby bar and thrown darts for an hour until it was deemed safe to return.  
"How long do you reckon Writer Boy will last before Beckett pulls a few strings and gets him kicked to the curb?" Javier asks, giving up on his coffee and setting it on the desk. Seriously, they should just poison suspects with that foul stuff – even the innocent would sign any confession set in front of them after a mouthful or so.  
Kevin shrugs. "Don't know. I give him a month to wear her down until she finally finds a way to ditch him."  
Espo chuckles. "Oh, Irish, I will give you some very good odds on that one. A twenty says Castle's out of here in four days to a week, tops. If he sticks around any longer, she'll just shoot him, I reckon."  
"I'll take you up on that bet," Ryan agrees cheerfully, and the two jovially shake on the new deal.  
Esposito pulls a post-it note out of his desk drawer, and carefully inks down the clause.  
_Esposito bets Ryan $20.00 that Castle is gone in 4 – 7 days.  
Ryan bets Esposito $20.00 that Castle will not be gone before a month is out.  
_He finds an empty zip-lock bag his filing cabinet that formerly held paper clips, and shoves the note inside. Espo goes to leave it sitting on the desk, but Kevin stops him. "What is Beckett sees it? She'll boot us, too."  
"Good point, bro," his partner mutters, and instead carefully stashes the Proof of Bet under an analysis paper of the Miranda Rights in his bottom drawer. (This clear plastic slip becomes the home of many, many more bets made on Castle and Beckett, a colourful nest of post-it after post-it, each detailed with a wager, about little things and big things).

_They're both proven wrong, eventually, of course. Castle outlasts the week, then the month. Then the year. There seem to be a few times when he really is gone for good, and when this happens, they protect Beckett as best they can, because oddly enough, it's never her that makes him leave (well, it is, but she doesn't understand that, because she didn't do anything intentionally – it's just a hazard of accidentally making someone fall in love with you).  
So when Espo and Ryan are standing beside Castle dressed to the nines and watching that door at the end of the carpet (because _any moment now_ they'll open and she'll walk through, looking glowing and beautiful and so different from the Beckett they bet on all those years ago), they have never been more glad neither made twenty dollars from that day in their lives._

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**Hope you're enjoying this so far! I have a feeling this could turn out to be a lot of fun to write.**

**Please review/comment/leave a prompt, it keeps me motivated.**

**x. M**


	2. Chapter 2 - The Coffee Consideration

**Hi chaps,**

**So these chapters are becoming a little longer than I'd originally anticipated. This one was a fun chapter to write, I hope you all enjoy it.**

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**Still Betting On Us, Boys? ****– ****chapter 2  
****a caskett fanfiction**

_Around 1x04_

Castle turns the large box on the break room table around, glee and triumph radiating off him in waves. "I got you… An _espresso machine_! How cool is that?"  
Ryan glances down at the mug currently clutched in his hand, stained from years of coffee around a PH of 2, a little disbelievingly. He'd thought life had been going pretty well for him – his friend had just introduced him to this girl called Jenny who seemed practically perfect (he just needs the courage to ask her out, and that's unlikely to develop any time soon) – but apparently things are getting even better. He grins. _Cool_.  
"I think my phone's ringing," Beckett mutters, her eyes looking to be on the verge of rolling out of their sockets.  
_Ah_, Ryan realises. She's going to do that unimpressed thing so that Castle doesn't know he's got to her with his frankly brilliant idea. Classic Beckett behaviour. Perhaps he should write Castle a brief Rookie guide, just to help him out a little bit.  
Kevin turns his head to catch Javier's eye, trying to read if his partner is as thrilled by the new installation as he is.  
But Esposito has a very appraising look in his eye, and is gazing at Castle suspiciously. Confused, Ryan grabs him by the upper arm and drags him into the dingy corridor behind the break room, which is empty save for a few anti-child abuse campaign posters glaring down at them.  
"What's up, man?" Kevin presses. "It's a coffee machine. Be pleased. Look pleased. Maybe he'll get us a personal chef if we're nice."  
Esposito shrugs, still looking disgruntled. "Don't get me wrong, Irish. I am all over the espresso machine – I'm fairly sure our old one was a plot to slowly poison all NYPD operatives. The machine is not my problem. It's _why _we have the machine."  
Kevin looks puzzled. "Uh – cos Castle's being nice?"  
Espo shakes his head, scrunching his nose. "Nah, bro. This is a Beckett Thing. I can feel it. I mean, if you want to be nice to the NYPD, like, _really _nice, you get them a coffee machine for like two hundred bucks. You do not splash out nearly a grand."  
Ryan clues in. "_Ooh. _You reckon this is an impress-Beckett-cos-I-think-she's-hot Thing?"  
Esposito nods. "Uh-huh. Okay, not cool, Castle. Think we should give him the Hands Off Our Beckett speech?"  
Ah, yes. Their protective brotherly spiel in the interests of defending Beckett's honour. They haven't _exactly _scripted it, but it has a layout. They fold their arms over their chests, raise their eyebrows and back their victim into a corner, looking casually menacing. Ryan opens with a, "So, (insert name here). Beckett, huh?" He then goes on to ask a series of _what if _questions that are meant to sound totally hypothetical, such as, "See, buddy, we know you're not into her. But, if, say, you _were _into her…" Esposito answers these questions with poorly concealed yet appropriately vague threats, and throws in the occasional _yeah_ when Ryan makes a rhetorical comment. Then they'll collaboratively relate some totally fictional account of the unfortunate fates of past misbehaving boyfriends, which they make it clear they had _"nothing" _to do with.  
It's quite the routine. Not that they'd ever admit having it to Beckett. She'd skin them alive (yes, they're willing to act tough on her behalf in front of six foot guys, but the Detective herself is another matter entirely).  
And maybe it's stupid and high school-y and all that, but they're really keeping themselves out of trouble. Because, you know, if someone ever did dare to break Beckett's heart, Ryan and Espo would end up on the other side of the murder suspect interrogation table than they usually are (and wouldn't even regret being there).  
Kevin considers it for a moment. "Nah, Javi," he decides finally. "I reckon we're in the clear with Castle. Beckett will head him off. I don't ever think he'll even get close. Ever."  
Esposito's eyes light up, sensing a challenge. "You bet me, then, eh? You bet we never have to have the Hands Off Our Beckett talk with Writer Boy?"  
Kevin shrugs. "I guess I am saying I bet you that, Espo."  
"Would you be willing to stick by that bet if a fifty came into the deal?"  
"You're just trying to earn back what you lost on the last bet," Kevin jibes. Castle had outlasted the week, which had added a Jackson to Ryan's wallet.  
"Not even. Go or no, Irish? You game?"  
"I think I am, Esposito."  
In a flash, they're back at Espo's desk, pulling out the post-it notes and the zip-lock bag from under the Miranda Rights booklet.  
This time, it's Ryan who writes it down.  
_Esposito bets Ryan $50.00 that the Hands Off Our Beckett speech will have to be made to Castle.  
Ryan bets Esposito $50.00 that Hands Off Our Beckett speech will not have to be made to Castle.  
_They stow it away again quickly as Beckett walks by.  
"What are you two doing?" she asks suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.  
"Nothing," they mutter in unison.  
"Fancy some coffee?" Espo adds, hoping to divert the conversation from further enquiry into their misadventures.  
"No, actually," Beckett informs them archly, and stalks away, clutching some files in her hands.  
"Oh, man," Ryan laughs. "I am so going to win. My baby nephew has as much of a chance with Beckett as Castle does."

_Ryan's prediction transpires to be drastically wrong, and Castle does, in fact, get the girl in the end. When they find out that those two _finally _got together, they're happy, and filled with relief. It doesn't occur to them to try and corner Castle that day. Or the next. Or the next.  
But when Castle pulls out the little ring in the little box and tells them that he's going to ask Beckett to marry him, whether she's in DC or in New York, they do finally pull him aside.  
"We trust you, man, and we're happy for you," Ryan begins.  
"But you've got to promise you're only ever going to have two ex-wives. Beckett's not the remarrying type. She's got enough ghosts and regrets without adding you to the heap," Espo cuts in.  
"Because if you break her heart, we _will _end you, man, bros or not," Kevin adds.  
"Ok? Third time lucky, man. She's going to have to be it," Javier finishes.  
Castle nods. "She is. I promise."  
"Good," Ryan says. "Because that wasn't just for Beckett, okay? We don't want this to get messed up for you, either. She's the love of your life."  
"I know," Castle replies. "Believe me. I know."  
So then they slap him on the back and wish him luck and tell him he deserves to have Beckett forever.  
They decide to call the bet a draw, in the end. To be honest, they're glad they'll never, ever have to have their Hands Off Our Beckett spiel again. Because no one else will come after Castle; they'll never get a chance._

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**Hope you enjoyed it! Please review/comment/leave a prompt so I know what you all think and what you want to come next.**

**Night, guys.**

**x. M **


	3. Chapter 3 - Passing Fancy

**Hi guys,**

**I've had a really quick response to this one; I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. I'm having fun telling a Caskett story through the eyes of Ryan and Espo. They're all so cute.**

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**Still Betting On Us, Boys? ****– ****chapter 3  
****a caskett fanfiction**

_Around 1x05_

"No _way_, man," Ryan goggles at Esposito. "You _let him have _Beckett's _mom's _file? _Beckett's mom's file? _You realise that if she finds out, she'll either kill Castle or cry?"  
Esposito shrugs. "I made him promise not to say. Besides, he's been following her a while now. I think he has a right to know the facts, even if Beckett won't let him see what it did to her."  
Ryan chases his fingers through his hair and rubs his brow. "I see your point. But, you know, what if Castle just uses it as plot in his book? Character backstory? What if that hurts her? It's our job to protect her, Javi."  
Sighing, Espo says, "I know, Irish. That's _what I'm doing. _How do you think it's going to go down if Castle makes some terrible joke next time we have a stabbing victim? What if he says something stupid to a girl whose mother was murdered? He needs to know about Johanna. To _keep _him from hurting her."  
Ryan looks torn. "I – I guess. And you're right, he'll probably use it mostly for good. Mostly. But what if he _does _use it in Nikki Heat? Or, worse, Espo – what if he _does _find something new? What then? What'll that do to her?"  
"I hadn't thought of that. But he won't find anything, bro. Beckett's the best detective there is, and she's been over that case hundreds of times each year since she got out of the Academy. Castle might be a great _writer _of detective _stories, _and pretty good at building theory, but he hasn't got a patch on Beckett's analysing ability. Come on. It'll be fine."  
They both stare at the floor for a while, pondering the wisdom of their actions, the best possible course in their situation. Finally, though, a text from Beckett sends them scooting back to the Bull Pen.  
"You two look guilty," Beckett comments immediately, hardly looking up from her file. Their misadventures with Castle and the file must be written somewhere in their faces.  
"Us, Beckett? Us? _Never_. We're not guilty of anything," Javier mutters overly-causally.  
"Hm. Maybe. Except, you know, being the least-convincing innocents of all time," she shoots back. But, after a moment of Ryan holding his breath (he's one hundred and ten percent sure that if she really wants to know, she'll be able to interrogate the truth out of them in moments), she lets it go, apparently unfazed. "_Anyway,_" Beckett continues, "I was going to tell you that I'll shout the conviction paperwork on this one. You two can just do your statements and suspect information, okay?"  
"Cheers, Beckett," Kevin says gratefully. That'll take about two hours off their clocks. Though, he reflects regretfully, another few onto hers.  
At that moment, Castle appears, his hand clutching a briefcase that both boys know must contain Johanna Beckett's file. It's the equivalent of walking in front of Beckett with a bomb, although she remains blissfully unaware.  
Ryan gazes at Castle appraisingly. Lately, over the past few weeks, Writer Boy has been watching Detective Beckett with more than simply curiosity, interest, and appreciation. There is something _else _lurking in his eyes, now, like the kindling of a tiny fire needing very little encouragement to grow.  
"See you guys next body drop," Castle declares cheerfully, winking at Beckett (she rolls her eyes) and taking his leave.  
"If body drops are what he's here for," Ryan mutters to Espo, "then why has he been lurking next to Beckett's desk for the past four hours? There hasn't been a fresh case in two days."  
His partner shrugs. "Reckon he probably finds the copper's life interesting. We know he finds Beckett interesting. He's basing a book on her little quests."  
Kevin shifts, raising an eyebrow. "Nigh on a little too _interesting. _He's got that _I want to know every little thing about you _look on him."  
"Nah, don't reckon so. That's just Castle. I mean, I know as well as you do that he's got an eye on Beckett, but I don't think it's _for real. _He's just excited about the NYPD."  
"You want to bet? I bet that the file you just gave him makes even more interested in Beckett. I bet it's not passing."  
Espo's eyes flicker with the glow of an exciting challenge, and he dives for the post-it's while Ryan lunges for the bottom drawer and retrieves their plastic bag (it's got two other slips of paper, one blue and one yellow, one bet resolved and one not so).  
"How much?"  
"Make it thirty bucks. I'm feeling lucky," he tells Esposito.  
_Ryan bets Esposito $30.00 that JHB's file makes Castle like Beckett more.  
Esposito bets Ryan $30.00 that Castle's interest in Beckett is a passing thing.  
_"That's not _exactly _the same thing," Kevin points out.  
"Close enough," Javi assures him. "I mean, it can only be one or the other, really."

_It is only one.  
Of their options, that is. Though there is only one for Castle, soon, too.  
The boys watch him fall in love with her. It's slow at first (he's still partially stuck in the Richard Castle playboy mind frame), but then rushes on suddenly, sending that writer head over heels, tumbling down what seems like an endless slope. As if Beckett had been approaching him silently, and then arrived all at once.  
Ryan is correct, of course: Johanna Beckett's file only makes Castle more determined to unravel all the layers that weave to make her daughter, but there's something else mixed with it, too. He seems to want to protect her from that rabbit hole, although he pushes her in by accident once or twice; it's clear to the boys that he wants to keep her safe from that murder, from that loss, from that part of her life. A chapter in a book stained filthy by grief.  
Esposito's wrong about Beckett being a passing interest, too. It does seem a couple of times that Castle will walk away. Or that Beckett will make him. But they always make it through.  
So, one day, in a hall filled with dancing people, Ryan tugs the collar of his suit and laughs. "_Passing_ fancy – as if, Javi."  
Because the rings on Beckett and Castle's fingers now declare what they have to be forever._

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**Hope you enjoyed it! Another chapter should be out relatively soon. If you have an event or time you would like the boys to bet on, please send it in to me. Please review, and don't forget check out my other fics if you're still in a Caskett mood.**

**x. EM **


	4. Chapter 4 - The Miranda List & The M E

**Hi you guys,**

**Sorry it's been a while since an update. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

**Still Betting On Us, Boys? ****– ****chapter 4  
****a caskett fanfiction**

_Around 1x06_

"So," Esposito mutters, punching the button for the elevator (they're headed to the morgue to check out what Lanie's got for them), "Meredith is back, huh?"  
Ryan snorts as the doors _ding _open and they sidle inside. "Yeah. _Back. _We all know why he's hooking up with deep-fried Twinkie."  
Javier tilts his head to the side, considering, as the elevator judders downwards reluctantly. "I don't know, man. I mean, I _guess_ she's kind of hot, but -"  
"Not what I meant, Javi," Kevin interrupts as their footsteps echo down the corridor, the antiseptic smells of the labs washing over them like cold water in a bath.

Espo pushes open the double doors to Lanie's morgue. She's waiting for them, but Espo holds up a finger to stem her words before turning back to Ryan. "What do you mean then, bro?"  
Ryan quirks an eyebrow. "Well, he can't have Beckett, right? So Meredith's probably his white flag, you know. His way of saying _well played, I give in. I give up._"

Lanie coughs.

Ryan holds up a shushing finger as well, gesturing he's not quite done with the conversation.

"Surely Beckett's got to be worth more than just a few weeks of flirting and a coffee machine," Espo replies. "I mean, she was never going to be _easy, _right? And besides, if he'd given up entirely, wouldn't he just have left? Isn't three quarters of the reason he's tailing Beckett to get with her? I reckon Meredith's just a boredom date. He's filling up time. Regrouping and developing new strategies."  
"Nah. He's Castle. He's rich and famous, he could have nearly anyone. It'd be more like him to throw in the towel and move on. He doesn't exactly seem like a romantic, you know?"  
"And you are, Irish? How exactly _are _things going with you and Jenny?" Espo snorts. "Got her to go out with you yet?"  
Ryan huffs. "I'll get there one day. You just watch. Besides, I want to make sure I do it right."  
"Ha. You're just chicken. But I'm totally right about Meredith."

Lanie coughs again.

They ignore her momentarily. "You bet that, huh? Want to add it to the Miranda List?" Ryan challenges (they had officially deemed their series of Castle and Beckett bets the _Miranda List_ after its secret storage location_, _in case their discussing it ever got overheard).

"I think I might."

Lanie clears her throat louder this time.

"What?" both boys ask in unison, turning to her.  
Her eyebrow jumps dangerously high. "Well, I had a point to make before, but I'll get to that. What's the Miranda List?"

The two partners shuffle their feet guiltily and stare purposefully at everything but the medical examiner. But her insistent and unrelenting (and mildly threatening) glare has them spilling the details in a rush.

"Well, you know how Castle showed up -"  
"- And wanted to tail Beckett? We figured -"  
"- It was because he wanted her, and so we -"  
"- Have kind of being taking bets on -"  
"- The motivations behind several events -"  
"- And his current and future success," Ryan finishes awkwardly. "Just, you know, to keep it interesting."

Oh, Esposito thinks. They _are _in trouble. Lanie will yell at them, and then she'll tell Beckett, who'll _really _yell at them, and then yell at them some more until they promise never to tell Castle. Ouch. And then, of course, Castle will inevitably find out, and then he'll get yelled at for thinking it is funny, and then Beckett will get mad at Ryan and himself again, just for good measure.

But Lanie proceeds to say something highly unexpected. "I want in."

Both boys turn to her, jaws dropping. "_What?"_  
She shrugs. "I'm bored. Castle is fun, and Beckett could really use some fun, so I'm not going to dob you guys in and risk ending this whole little unorthodox writer/detective partnership they've got set up. But I'm not sure how it's going to play out. I think it'd be fun to weigh in on it from time to time, if you've got a whole thing going."

"I – um – okay," Esposito stammers, surprised but pleased. "But you've got more influence over Beckett than we have. You're not allowed to try and convince her to do something that'll sway the bet in your favour or out of ours."  
"I'll do whatever I damn well like, Javier Esposito, and don't you know it. Nothing that's out of Beckett's best interests, though. We have to all agree on that."

The two boys nod vigorously.

"So what was it you two were betting on this time?" Lanie asks, the debate having momentarily flitted from her mind.  
"Meredith," Ryan informs her. "I reckon he's Castle giving up cos Beckett's too hard, and Espo reckons she's just, I don't know, filling time until he can think of another approach to get Beckett."  
"Had you considered he was using Meredith to make Beckett jealous?" Lanie proposes.  
The partners laugh. "Yeah, right, Lanie. Beckett never gets jealous."  
Lanie shrugs. "Just saying. Or maybe not even to make her jealous. Maybe just to put the idea in her head that he's worth hooking up with – I mean, Meredith is someone he broke up with a long time ago who keeps coming back. That's got to be trying to make some kind of statement, surely."  
Espo grins, grabbing a pad of post-it's from Lanie's desk in the corner. "I'll hold you to that," he informs her, taking the pen Ryan hands him, scratching down the details. "Shall we say for a ten? It's Lanie's first bet, so let's make it nice and easy for when she's wrong."  
"Make it twenty," the ME tells him, rolling her eyes.

_Ryan bets Esposito and Lanie $20.00 that Castle is done with Beckett.  
Esposito bets Ryan and Lanie $20.00 that Castle is bored and regrouping.  
Lanie bets Esposito and Ryan $20.00 that Castle is making (trying to make) Beckett jealous. _

Esposito folds the paper with a flourish, adding the date the bet was made to the back of the note (they've gone back and done this with the other wagers, too, as a record for anything time-relevant). "That will go with our collection when we get back to the bullpen."  
Lanie blanches. "You keep your list in the _bullpen_? What if Beckett finds it? We'd all end up on this table with Pearlmutter desperately trying to find a way to prove Beckett killed us."  
Ryan waves her off. "We've got it well hidden. Bottom draw of Espo's cabinet. Under his thick-as copy of the Miranda Rights, complete with analysis and associated laws – that's where we got the name _Miranda List_. Beckett would never go poking around there; she knows all that stuff about the Miranda Rights by heart. And she despises Espo's filing system; she thinks it's a mess."

Lanie looks torn. "All right. Okay. That's good enough."  
"It's flawless," Espo assures her, but clams up at her expression.  
"Well," Ryan cuts in, saving his partner's ass, "bet's a bet. Now, what did you call us down here about?"

* * *

_They work up the courage to ask Castle and Beckett one day, years and years after that visit to the morgue. The two have long since found out about the Miranda List, but have never been permitted to read all the bets made on them, as those whose names (Espo, Ryan and Lanie were the only regulars, but many at and outside the 12__th__ had weighed in from time to time) were permanently inscribed on the incriminating post-it's had decided it would be in their best interests to keep the details of those wagers under lock and key. The other reason was, of course, that the betting still went on from time to time, without the knowledge of the detective and her writer.  
_

_And while many wagers resolved and answered themselves in time, this was one that required a direct answer.  
They laugh it off, but Castle pulls the boys aside later.  
"All bets should be resolved," he tells them, and they know the time to which he is referring. "But I don't know what I was doing. I wasn't giving up, that's kind of self-evident. But I'm not sure what I meant Meredith to be. I just know I was being an idiot. There's a whole lot that maybe if I hadn't done it, if Beckett hadn't done it, we would've got together sooner. But then things would've been different, and maybe we wouldn't have made it."_

_"But did it make you jealous, though?" Lanie asks, glancing at the boys crowding together a few feet away, talking conspiratorially, though clueless as to what they are discussing so intently.  
_

_Beckett smirks. "Maybe just a little bit."_

**A/N: ****_"and they know the time to which he is referring…"_**** This is a reference to something that will happen later on, in the chapter wherein this story's name will be fully explained. Spoilers.**

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**Hope you liked it. Don't forget to review/comment/leave a prompt, or read my other stories if you're bored.**

**Also, if you've got a moment, weigh in yourself. Here are some characters I'm thinking of allowing in on the bet at some point:**

** - Karpowski  
- Maddison  
- Paula  
- Agent Shaw  
- Martha **

**ONE MORE ISSUE: How okay would you guys be if the chapters of this story jumped around throughout the whole show? So far I've kept it in order, but there are chapters I'm dying to write from later on.**

**x. M**


	5. Chapter 5 - Ring Up The Total

**Hi guys,**

**The general consensus was that it's okay for me to jump around, so long as I tell you all where I'm at. So I'm going to do that.**

**Enjoy! (And sorry for how long it's taken to update)**

* * *

**Still Betting On Us, Boys? ****– ****chapter 5  
****a caskett fanfiction**

_Around 3x06 – 3XK_

"Reckon he's right, though?" Esposito prompts, nudging Ryan with his elbow. "Is it just Castle spinning crazy theories like a deranged spider, or do you think the triple killer is really back?"

Ryan blanches. "Jesus Christ, I hope not. You remember his M.O, right? Castle and Beckett were talking about it. A blonde female New Yorker in her twenties? That's basically a description of Jenny. I'm going to call her up now. Tell her that I don't care if all the electricity goes out and the sink starts leaking, there is no way in hell she is letting a repairman into the apartment. Not until we know for sure it's not 3XK. And if it is him, then not until we catch him."

Espo nods tersely at Ryan and watches his partner as he walks a little way down the corridor, just catching the beginning of his conversation: "Hey, beautiful. Listen…"

* * *

_A while later…_

The torch flashes in Ryan's eyes.

"How many fingers, mate?" asks the paramedic, vaguely cheerfully. He's the kind who keeps sympathy and concern out of his voice. Those are Kevin's favourite sort – as long as everyone else believes he's okay, he does, too.

"Three," Kevin answers with confidence, at least 63% sure he's right.

"Okay," the medic concedes. "You're good to go. Try and get some sleep, don't do anything physically exerting, and if you start feeling odd, get someone to take you to the ER straight away."

"'Kay," Ryan mutters. "Thanks." He groans slightly as he eases himself up from the chair.

He _hurts._

He glances over his shoulder, and catches sight of Beckett and Castle perched beside the pool, hands clasped. The only thing yet today to make him smile. He's sure those two will make it through. Get together someday. He hopes they will. He thinks they can.

"Hey, Irish," Esposito mutters, giving Kevin an appraising glance. Checking he's not permanently damaged. "Let's get you home, bro. I called Jenny and told her you were a bit knocked up, so she knows what to look for tonight if you start to go downhill, okay?"

* * *

"I'm going to do it, Javi," Ryan announces as he slides into the passenger side of their Crown Vic. "I really mean it."

"Do what?" Espo asks calmingly, looking at his partner with a slightly worried look on his face, perhaps wondering if Ryan is having some kind of crazy episode as he steps on the gas and they steer out into the street.

"I'm going to ask Jenny to marry me."

Javier slams on the brakes, and pulls over to the side of the road. "You're what?"

"I'm going to marry Jenny," Ryan repeats.

"You know what you're saying, right, man? You're concussed. I mean, I know you're crazy about her, but are you sure? Marriage means forever, you know that, don't you?" Espo asks.

"Yep," Ryan responds happily. "Forever with Jenny. I like that. That sounds very good indeed."

"You really, really sure? I mean, I'm all for it, of course I am, but you know this isn't something you can cancel at the last minute? Once you've pulled out that ring and got on one knee, you can't go back."

"Javi," Kevin says, slurring ever so slightly, "I know you had a bad experience with your parents. I know your dad was never there and you were never really looked after by your mum. But I want to take a run at it. I want to be a husband, maybe even a dad, and I actually _cannot _imagine doing that with someone other than Jenny."

"Forever, though," Espo insists.

"Yeah. I want that. You might one day, too. I know Castle does."

"With Gina? He already tried agreeing to that, and remember how that turned out? An alimony settlement big enough to -"

"No, Espo. With Beckett," Ryan explains.

Javier frowns. "I think you're concussed."

"Maybe concussion makes me see things clearer."

"They're both with other people."

"So?" Kevin asks. "They'll come around. Look, Espo, there are _hundreds _of people you can see yourself being with for a day, fewer for a month, even less for a year. But even if you're very, very lucky, there's only going to be one or two you could ever really be happy spending your entire life with. And Gina isn't one for Castle, they both know that. He already knows he wants Beckett, but he's dodging it cos he thinks it's unrequited. And Beckett is beginning to work out that she wants him, too, so she's hiding behind someone else."

"But -"

"Look what happened today, Javi. I nearly got killed, and so did Castle. It was enough to wake me up. Make me realise what I want, and who I want, and that I don't want to waste my time holding out on a happiness I'll inevitably head towards anyway. This is a dangerous job. How many other close calls do you think those two will need, really, to realise themselves what _they_ want?"

"Cute theory, Kev," says Javier. "But you're still partially concussed. Excuse me if I don't take your word on it."

"Then would you set your word _against _it?"

"Is this a bet I smell? I'm not sure if it's moral to have a wager with mentally inhibited man."

"I'm just fine, Javi. We can go for a fifty, this time. I'm feeling lucky. Once you've dropped me off, you can add the bet to the Miranda List."

"All right, all right. But don't be mad at me tomorrow. Once it's on the Miranda List, it's _there_, bro. For good. No take backs."  
Kevin rolls his eyes.

* * *

Ryan opens the passenger door as Espo hops out of his hide. Kevin stares up at his apartment building. Jenny's up there, somewhere, probably worrying about him. Maybe making dinner or reading or cleaning or chatting with a friend.

She could do anything and it would be great.

He _is _going to marry her. And it's going to be the best thing ever.

"Javi," he asks softly, "you'll be my best man, right?"

"Course. Whenever you're ready, we'll go get you a ring, and then from there, it should be plain sailing, huh?"

"She'll say yes, right?"

"As sure as I'm going to win our latest bet."

Ryan laughs. "That's not comforting, Javi."

* * *

_Ryan bets Esposito $50.00 that Castle and Beckett are forever.  
Esposito bets Ryan $50.00 that there are too many things in their way._

As Espo slides the note into the plastic zip lock bag the next day, he happens to glance up, and see Castle and Beckett huddled in the break room, heatedly debating some theory. Beckett is starting to look almost cross with him, but then Castle says something that makes her face split into a bright smile as she laughs.

Esposito grins to himself. Oh, it would _so _be worth losing $50.00 for.

* * *

_"Yo. Irish." _

_Ryan turns around slowly. His police reflexes have faded, admittedly, but aren't gone. He's sure many things have changed since they were all last at the 12__th__, but some things never will: he'll always be 'Irish'. And it will always be only to Esposito._

_"Shush, Javi. I'll be the worst grandad in the world if I wake this kid up," he mutters, shifting the tiny, tiny bundle in his arms, which is triggering memory after memory in his own head._

_"I just came to bring you your winnings," grins his oldest friend._

_"My what?"_

_Javier tugs a fifty taunt in his fingers, before placing it on the coffee table. _

_"I still can't believe you didn't pay me that at their wedding. We all knew they were never going to divorce, despite Castle's track record. We knew that was a one and done. I think it's ridiculous you thought it would be more appropriate to wait until they actually _have _been together for a long, long time."_

_"Yes, well, if you remember correctly, I was, in fact, saving for something at that particular point in time, now, wasn't it?" Esposito points out._

_"I reacted about a billion times better when you told me about Lanie than when I told you what I'd decided about Jenny. And I told you that she'd say yes. Did you do the same for me? Wait…"_

_"Yes, yes, you're the best best man ever. We all know that. Now let me hold the kid."_

* * *

**Hope you had fun.**

If you're bored and still in a FanFicition-y mood, I've launched two new stories this week:

_**To Say I Love You, Little By Little: **__He can't say it. That little, three word phrase seems too unremarkable for what he means. For how much he means it. So, instead, he finds lots of little ways, little things. Words and gestures and actions that can only mean "I love you" if you're looking. He hopes that, one day, she'll see. A collection of all the ways Castle shows what he can't tell._

_**Almost, Nearly (But Never Quite): **__The first time (and second first time) Castle and Beckett met was at a book signing. Except it wasn't. Because sometimes, very, very rarely, there are people so inexplicably connected that they inevitably collide. Over and over. A collection of all the times fate and the streets of New York couldn't keep these two apart, a series of accidental firsts that neither remembers._

**x. M**


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